Permanant Ink
by Shwee
Summary: One shot. This is about learning to live your life, take risks, and to love. SLASH FIC! You've been warned, so don't flame me. GRAPHIC!


**Permanent Ink**

…_Nothing risked is nothing gained…_

The sun shone brightly as ever. It caused annoying white blemishes to blur my vision and made my skin crawl in fear of being scorched. Making my white-blond hair glisten with tiny beads of perspiration and causing my heavy quidditch robes to stick to me, strewn with sweat. My alabaster face shimmered with miniscule rivers of salty water; gray-mercury eyes stung with it. I wrinkled my facade to try and remove the dry sensation that the salt brought, even throwing in a fist to rub it away.

Besides the intense heat, it truly was a wonderful day to practice quidditch, and with the upcoming exams, I'd have the whole pitch to myself. There'd be no dumb-witted teammates, no victory-crazy fans, and no maroon-clad enemies to boo me. I was utterly and quite delectably alone. I wouldn't have it any other way. Solitude was in my nature, imbedded in my very DNA. It was laced together with my chromosomes, it invaded my mitochondria. There was no escaping it. Not that I'd want to, of course. No, I loved my privacy.

The grass ruffled quietly under my bulky playing boots while the sun bore down relentlessly on me. My nerve ends could practically feel the UV rays sizzling a dance around my body, laughing sardonically as they schemed to ruin my skin. It was all making me quite light headed as I trudged on, making my way to center field.

My arms protested silently as I bent over to deposit my heavy burden that was the ball trunk. It hit the cushioned ground with a slight thump and nestled in quickly with the earth, sinking a few inches.

I stood up and stretched my body in to a four point star, cracking my back and neck in the process. My limbs moved weakly as I bowed down to open the trunk, once again wiping the sweat from my forehead. The weighty gold clasps that barred my entry flicked open easier than I had expected, but the equally heavy hinges groaned loudly. The lid rested back, opening the trunk and allowing my fingers to begin searching for the secret compartment that housed the snitch.

The small hidden box opened like a set of double doors, revealing a holding mold of crushed red velvet. The tiny fibers reached up towards me, frowning in loneliness, their barren arms searching hopelessly for the snitch that wasn't there.

I raised an eyebrow in confusion and quickly searched my surroundings, only to find nothing. My gaze went to the far right side of the pitch where there resided an aging mahogany door. The quidditch closet was just as I had left it, slightly ajar, seeing as my hefty load had prevented me from closing it all the way. My keen and practiced charcoal eyes skimmed the grass surrounding the aloof door, but found no signs of the glinting metal object there either.

Slightly exasperated, I stood up off my haunches and began traversing towards the portal, my robes swishing irritably. The distance between my destination and me was just beginning to diminish when I heard an odd whooshing sound come from the skies above me. I craned my well-muscled neck and narrowed my onyx eyes into the blazing sun in attempts to see what had made the sound. The only reprisal I was granted was a brief glance at a blurred figure and the tail of a broom flying speedily over my skull.

I followed the creature with my face, trying to see where it was going, only to further advance my light-headedness. Seeing as it was a hopeless venture for my gaze to pursue the speeding object, I made my way back over to my own broom, mounted the sleek ash wood handle and tore off into the heavens.

Once in the sky, the wind affectionately caressed my face, welcoming me back like a long lost lover, rippling my hair with tender fingers. Fluffy white cumulous clouds bounced around me like great cotton balls, wrapping me in a down of comfort. My soul swam about me in luxurious circles, exhilarated with the autonomy of the sky and the relief that the fresh breeze brought from the smoldering sun. Green and silver robes flapped anxiously around me, begging to blow away and play with the gentle wind. Obliging them, I released the silvery serpent that held them together and unlaced the black cords that bound them collectively. Excitedly, they drifted away to fool around with the currents, rising and falling in a waltz of relaxation.

All I had on now were my aged quidditch breeches and an old black v-neck that was so faded it seemed gray. Seeing as it was drenched in my sweat anyways, I pulled the raggedy old thing over my head and released it, too, into the wind's care. I watched as it plummeted limply after my robes, then returned my gaze to the space ahead of me. Pulling out my wand, I placed a protective shield around my body to ward off the bothersome sun's harmful rays, and then zoomed off to find my prey.

I may have spent a short while reveling in the presence of a long sought after flight, but that didn't mean that I'd lost what I was looking for, on the contrary, he was quite easy to find. The figure had stopped moving and was suspended a good fifty feet or so above myself to the right. I didn't speed off to meet him, but rather raised myself to his level as to get a better look at whom it was. What I saw astounded me.

Unkempt, flustered, raven-black hair spilled across his lovely sun-kissed face, slightly obscuring a pair of deep, dazzling emerald-colored eyes. Lips so rouge that I longed to taste them rested lusciously beneath an angelically carved nose and slightly above a smooth, cutting jaw line. Beneath that perfect face laid a silky, supple neck so enticing that I longed to taste it, leading to absolutely delectable, jutting collarbones.

What followed was the most breathtaking naked torso that I've ever seen. Pectorals glistening with sweat rippled in the sunlight, residing just above a magnificent, smooth-as-silk set of abs. I longed to run my hands along his body, to see if this god was in fact really a mortal.

My fingers itched as my eyes roamed over his lower half, sad to see that there was a pair of tight-fitting shorts obscuring my view of his golden flesh. Lean thighs bulged beneath the cotton and well-muscled calves, darkened by the down of curls that covered them, led down towards a pair of worn and torn quidditch boots.

Returning my attention to the upper half of his body, I watched his lustrous biceps tighten and retract in their work, longing to feel them crush my body against his. Glistening forearms stretched down to well-worked, weathered hands that I thought would look perfect roaming along my own body, his fingers, slim and strong, should be running little paths along my torso.

As I studied those fingers, I came to realize that they held a metallic golden orb; it's wings fluttering helplessly as the god-boy held it firmly with his strong hands. He caressed the grooved runes that spilled along its length with a giant thumb, as if trying to decipher their meaning. A second hand gently stroked the feather-delicate wings almost lovingly as his sparkling eyes studied it intently. The object soon ceased its feeble flapping and relaxed reluctantly in the man's grasp, as if tiring from the fight.

My body rippled with silent laughter at how long it had taken me to realize that this boy held the golden snitch! The object that I had originally set out to find rested calmly in this god's palms. Gathering my wits, I eased my broom forward at a faster pace, closing the gap between myself and the divine beauty that lay ahead. Once again, the tender wind nipped lovingly at my face as I made my progression, pushing me ahead with confidence.

I nearly stopped mid-flight when the boy turned his gaze on me, his searing chartreuse eyes locking upon my approaching figure intently. An expression of recondition passed over him as he took in my profile, realizing who I was. To my surprise, and extreme delight, he didn't retreat at the presence of his age-old nemesis, but rather smiled a crooked smile that lit up his features. It was a beautiful smile, causing his already stunning face to radiate even more majesty. The angel's lips parted to form words, and when he spoke, I practically passed out from the shear magnificence of it.

"Malfoy, what an _unpleasant_ surprise." The slight vehemence in his voice brought me back to reality, forcing me to realize that I hated this man, and that I had no choice in the matter. Our over-zealous guardians had already decided our futures.

"Likewise, Potty." I returned his violence with my own, tossing my head in the slight arrogance that I'm famous for. I set my mug in what I thought was an evil sneer, but now that I was in his presence, I couldn't really be sure of anything.

"What makes you think that I will share my quidditch pitch with you, Potter?" The words dropped like stones from my mouth, leaving bitter tasting bile behind in their place. I hated myself for this, wishing that I didn't have to be his enemy.

A quirky smirk passed over his lips and he readied his broom to face me, muddled ebony hair blowing loftily in the breeze. He held up the shinning golden sphere with his well-muscled hand, raising an eyebrow in inquiry.

"Oh Malfoy, do be nice. If I'm not mistaken, I believe that you're looking for this?" A smirk captured his lips, "And seeing as there is nothing you can do with out it, I was wondering if you'd like to play a game with me, ferret." He tittered silently at the use of my age-old nickname, "Have our own one-on-one quidditch match. Or are you too busy showing off your half-nude, deathly white body to engage in any real competition?" Harry was flying slow, leisurely circles around me now, closing those emerald eyes as the amorous wind caressed _his _face and rippled _his_ breeches. How peaceful, how incredibly at home he looked up here among the clouds, floating around like this was his natural environment. It made me wonder if he really was a god.

"Lost for words at the sight of your better, Malfoy? Or are you really to scared to face me like a man?" The Golden Boy's words cut deep, leaving little fissures in my ego that singed and bled with remorse. I didn't want to reply to his goading, all I wanted was to go and take him in my arms, to caress his heavenly body and see if he was real. But my pride got in the way. Hurtful words that corroded my tongue burst out of my mouth, attacking the Chosen One with pretend malice.

"I try to speak to mudblood lovers as little as possible, Potty," was my retort, "And no, I will not play games with you." Rapidly, I began to descend through the air, needing to escape before I said something really bad. The silver locks of my hair fluttered upwards wordlessly as I plummeted towards the earth, quidditch shorts rippling violently. I was far from escaping though; Harry was fast on my tail, yelling incoherent insults as he plunged along with me. I looked up to see him tucked into a dive, pushing viciously as he fought to catch up.

I hit the ground first, jumping quickly off my broom and traversing away speedily, hoping to catch Potter before he recovered his wits. My feet had touched down somewhere near center-pitch and I was now a good ten yards away from liberation, but the luscious green grass, the grass that reminded me so much of his glittering emerald eyes, seemed to be grabbing at my boots. It begged me mercifully to stay and face my feelings, dragging me under, causing me to sink into the sodden earth.

It was then, trying to flee from clingy muddle of grass (or perhaps it was my feelings), that I realized how pathetic I was being. Never in my life had I run away from a challenge, not even if the adversary was the most beautiful man I had ever seen, and I certainly had never fled from _Potter!_

Stopping in my tracks and turning on heel, breaking the little fingers of earth that still clung to my shoe, I searched the sky for him. The second my body finished rotating, a blurry mass sped inches above my right shoulder, just missing my head and causing tendrils of silvery hair to flow after it's current. In a raging ball of fury, I fell to the ground; completely wind swept, and trying to regain my cool.

Harry continued speeding on, giggling merrily to himself at the victory as he did a quick U-turn and readied for a second charge. Wanting nothing of the sort, I once again mounted the sleek black handle of my broom and sped off into the sky.

This time the wind didn't caress me or playfully ruffle my hair; it swept me up and pushed me forward, swirling around me, invigorating me and patting my back like a loyal teammate. Sucking in a deep breath, I raced off to find him, the beautiful, enticing, sun-kissed god child.

"Looking for this, Malfoy?" His melodic voice rang out behind me. I spun quickly to see him holding up the glittering golden snitch, he had that smile on again, the one that melts my insides. He stopped my heart, turning it into a puddle of lust-soaked mush. It left me speechless, making me sigh lightly as I watched his lips continue to move.

"But judging by the expression on your face, I suppose the correct question to ask is 'Are you looking for me?'" His eyes sparkled with intelligence. "I see the way you stare at me, you know, when no one else is around. I see your cloudy eyes melt every time I glance your way. I'm much more attentive than you give me credit for." His voice was taunting, I didn't know what to say.

My mind was reeling painfully, trying to sort things out. I knew that I had to respond quickly or I'd risk blowing my cover. My pale pink lips parted, words of spite forming on my tongue, ready to spill out at my brain's command, but I found myself pausing. There was no one around to hear my words besides Harry, but for some reason, I didn't think he'd care. The way he'd just spoken led me to believe that he'd guessed my state a very, very long time ago.

Not knowing what else to do, I raised my eyebrow quizzically at him, as if asking his approval. His eyes, those gorgeous, emerald eyes, lit up and enlarged to the size of saucers.

"You really _are_ gay? Holy shit!" He ran a hand exasperatedly through his jet-black hair, moving slightly closer to me, chuckling lightly. "I'd long thought so, but there was never any… confirmation…wow." Something in his expression clicked then and his laughter died. He looked at me in astonishment that soon turned to embarrassment, coloring his cheeks crimson. He turned his head shyly, facing away from me. The broom he rode was still creeping forward slowly. An awkward, unbearable silence fell over us, I'm not quite sure why.

We sat there in quiet for a few more moments, me playing distractedly with my shorts, tracing the tiny little stitches with my thin fingers, and him still fuddling about with his midnight locks, running them in circles around his powerful digits. Eventually, he perked up the courage to openly voice his discomfiture, though his words were far from steady and practiced.

"So, you've got the hotts for-," his voice shook nervously, he looked up at me "fo-for me?" I didn't know what to do then, now that my condition had been formed into words. He made it sound so harsh, so scary, like I should be fleeing from his presence. But I couldn't flee, I couldn't even move. Silence froze me here, suspended a good hundred feet or so from solid ground, my charcoal eyes locked into his jade ones. A million words spun through my head, words that I should probably say, but I couldn't.

Anxiously, Harry cleared his throat and shifted his bulk on his broom. He clearly was disturbed by this newly developed information; thin lines of what looked like disgust creased his forehead, marring his beautiful face. It hurt my soul to see him look at me that way, like I was some sort of slimy specimen that was trying to grab at him with suctioned tentacles. Millions of tiny needles began picking themselves into my heart; sorrow flowed evenly from the life threatening punctures.

I looked away and closed my eyes, not knowing what else to do. My tear-ducts were already flooding and threatened to overflow if he imprinted my retina any longer. A drip of the hot liquid slithered its way down my pale cheek, and I could feel Harry's calculating green eyes staring me up. I raised a hand, quickly wiping the uncomfortable substance away, my cheeks turning pink with embarrassment. Making a tense sound in my throat, I struggled to form words.

"I'm gonna… gotta… go feed my homework and do my owl… I mean… ugh… _do_ my homeworkand feed my _owl_," I psychologically smacked myself in the face, " I've gotta go and do my homework and feed my owl, so I'm going to leave." Mentally, I cursed myself for being so damn nervous. I sounded like an absolute retard, choking on my words and once again fleeing from my problems.

Knowing the coward I was, my broom turned around and began to propel me in the opposite direction of Harry, fighting to escape before my emotions overflowed and I became a gigantic weeping mess. No one would appreciate seeing me like that, especially not myself. I'd rather face my problems alone in the privacy of my head-boy suite, not at all wanting my suffering to be made public.

Just as I was about to set off, I heard Harry voice come pleading from behind me.

"No, please don't go." What!

It was one of the simplest sentences that I had ever heard, naught but four straightforward words strung together, but if left me confused as hell. Had he not just been looking at me as if I was some bloody monster? He had made his disgust for me quite clear, and my mind could only think that he wanted to goad me further. Though I wanted nothing of the sort, I just couldn't find it within myself to continue fleeing.

I stopped in my flight, but didn't turn to face him, not wanting to further embarrass myself; silent tears were already streaking their way down my alabaster face.

"Why?" It was the only word I could choke out at the moment, and seemed to be the best response to me. He was silent for a second, sending my heart aflutter with anxiety, but he did find the words eventually.

"Be…" He drew a deep, lengthy breath before continuing, "Becauseimgaytoo." The later came out with a huge whoosh of air, traveling at great speeds, but I wouldn't have misunderstood him for my life. He raised his hand to idly scratch the back of his neck, then continued. "And I… well I sorta… well… have the hotts for you too." I almost fainted at that, turning dizzily to finally face him.

The most honest, genuine expression consumed Harry's beautiful face, bringing even more tears to my eyes. He was telling the truth. I closed my eyes in silent prayer.

Slat trickled a straight edge down my cheek, but it never made it to my chin. The most delectable set of lips eagerly kissed the embarrassing fluid away, laving it all up with a velveteen tongue. They then proceeded to place themselves upon my mouth, brushing lightly against the flesh ever so briefly.

My eyes flew open in genuine surprise, searching for the one whose silky skin was upon mine. Harry's large, shinning eyes, as bright as polished jade, stared back at me, mouth mere inches from mine, gaze half closed in desire, a nervous smile on his face.

I was absolutely dumbfounded. My jaws opened and closed numerous times, like a stranded fish gaping for water. I tried to say something, anything, but the words just died in my mouth, shot down by my scarcely functioning brain.

My heart was thumping uncontrollably, battering a wild beat against my rib cage with enough force to cause me to clutch it in pain. The world around me was spinning, colors blurring, shapes melting into void. I was pretty sure that I looked like an idiot, just sitting there, mouth agape, eyes wide, clutching my chest, but I could hardly do anything else.

It took me a life-threateningly long amount of time before I could convince myself to begin thinking again. I pondered what to do next, whether to go with what my heart was telling me, or what my conscious was telling me. Every inch of my soul longed to return the kiss, to feel that wonderful flesh bruise it's way against mine, to fill me with the need and passion that I had so long forgone. Then there was that nagging, annoying part of my mind that was trying to stop me, warning me of the risks, and asking me if I could trust him. I suppose it would be like tattooing my condition on my forehead for everyone to see, plastering my gayness all over me in permanent ink.

So what should I do? Take a leap of faith and hope that all would be well, or retract back into my shell and avoid my problems once again? It seemed an even game, until I realized that life would be nothing without a little risk taking. As my Godfather put it: nothing risked is nothing gained. It was a good moral to live life by, and made a lot of sense now that I thought about it.

With this logic, it no longer felt like a war. My heart over powered my mind easily and almost immediately those luscious lips were upon mine once again. It was such a wonderful feeling, causing my eyes to mold shut in relief and a deep sigh to escape my throat. Our mouths pressed gingerly at first, feeling out the foreign territory like greenhorn explorers, but soon they were melting into a blissful medley of flesh.

His silky pink tongue flicked briefly against my mouth, wanting to taste me further, needing me just as much as I needed him. It traced a pattern along the curve of my lips, its velvety feel contrasting nicely with the chapped feel of my mouth. I was more than willing to allow him in, missing the sliding feeling of tongue on tongue.

Parting my lips, I invited him in shyly. He obliged, grazing a path along my teeth and up to the roof of my mouth. Our lips were pressing with enough force to bruise, our mouths locked in a passion-filled dance of tongues, both of us thrusting hungrily as we discovered each other.

Unbeknownst to me, my thin white fingers crept slowly up his head to clutch his raven curls, intertwining themselves greedily. His hair was so soft under my callused grasp, like thick wisps of clouds wrapping themselves around my digits. Using it as leverage, I pulled him closer to me, deepening the kiss and almost gagging myself. He tasted so good, like cinnamon, and I couldn't stop myself. I drove my tongue deeper and deeper into his mouth, swirling it viciously, until I thought for sure that I'd choke him.

Harry's hands placed themselves protectively about me, resting on the small of my back and pulling us even nearer. I loved the way that his body fit against mine, forming to its curvature perfectly. My nerves were on end, making me highly sensitive to his touch, and we were touching everywhere. Our stomachs collided, firm muscles rubbing against each other softly, golden pectorals slamming against pale ones, erect nipples brushing playfully. The feel of flesh on flesh was driving me crazy.

Returning my attention to our mouths, I let out kiss slowly slide apart, dragging his bottom lip out in my teeth and biting it seductively. I was rewarded with a moan deep within his throat and hands clawing impatiently at my naked back. I chuckled inwardly, realizing how much he seemed to enjoy the pain, and tried something else.

Breaking our lust-filled kiss and untangling one hand from his unkempt mop, I scratched a deep path down his back of golden skin. I watched his eyes become bright, practically liquid with desire as a wild groan escaped his lips. I hadn't drawn blood, but four beautiful crimson streaks ran down his back, tarnishing his sun kissed flesh in the most wonderful way possible. I found that I really liked marking Harry, claiming him for my own. It was my way of showing every one that he was mine now, and mine only.

I was now kissing my way along his angelic jaw line, nibbling here and there, making my way to his supple, enticing neck. His mouth clenched and retracted at random as my lips slid gently along it, his fingers playing sweetly with the down of curls at the nape of my neck. I made a small pit stop at his ear, gently sucking the lobe into my mouth and twirling my tongue around it before letting it slip out as I tugged on it lightly with my teeth. A small gasp of air left his lungs.

Almost at my target, I began to create little hickeys wherever I could, longing to taste his sweet skin. He was so soft, and almost unbelievably so. I would've thought that years of quidditch and fighting evil or whatnot would have at least left some kind wear-and-tear on his skin, but apparently not.

Telling myself to stop thinking and just do, I reached up with strong hands to pull his head closer, allowing me better access. When my lips fell at last upon his neckline, I began to kiss wildly, raising his heart rate tenfold. My tongue occasionally slipped out; over anxious to taste him again, slickly caressing his flesh and making him writhe in pleasure. My ministrations didn't stay sweet for long though, they soon turned to pure ecstasy as I gathered the skin into my teeth and bit down, leaving striking, deep purple marks.

Harry threw back his head and roared a guttural moan, his hands once again at my back, digging in fiercely. He pulled himself from my teeth in the process, eyes rolling in ecstasy. His grasp around me was tight, arms and legs squirming and writhing in pleasure, breath labored and uncontrolled.

When the momentary wave of bliss passed, Harry looked at me with empty eyes, expecting more. More than happy to mark him again, I proceeded to latch back on and resume biting him. My teeth continued to mar his golden skin, turning it cavernous shades of violet and crimson, until his moans became so loud that I feared being over heard.

Finishing with the last attack, I let his flesh slip lightly from my mouth, allowing it back to its original spot. Taking his face in my hands, I looked deep into those emerald eyes, trying desperately to control my wild desire. Kissing his lips gently, I realized that I was in dire need of release, needing to touch every inch of this god and fearing my eminent doom if I didn't. We definitely needed solid ground.

Wrapping my lean arms around Harry's hard body, I pulled him forward onto my lap. His bulk left his broom as he straddled my groin, eliciting a small moan from me. His intoxicating scent filled the air around me, making me inhale a deep breath and close my eyes lovingly. He smelt of a wonderfully musky scent; a mixture of clovers, sandal wood, and sweat, making it utterly hard to concentrate.

Pulling him into an embrace, I looked over his shoulder to guide my broom to land down among the stands, barely able to think with him so near. He was my drug, and I was on my way to get my fix. The sooner we arrived the better, so I hurried to the bleachers, discarding my broom when we got there and carrying Harry to the nearest bench. His legs were still wrapped tightly around my body, his thick erection rubbing up against mine with every step, driving me further towards the edge.

I sat down with him still in my lap, smoothing my silver hair back affectionately and looking at me with those bottomless, olive eyes. I returned the gesture, curling my milk-white fingers in his deep ebony locks, playing with the silky hairs at the base of his neck, and smiled when he made a small mewling sound in the back of his throat.

He was the most beautiful man that I had ever seen. I didn't know if I could ever tear my plain, stony eyes from his deep, piercing, star-filled chartreuse ones. My hand slipped down to caress his face, sweeping across his golden cheek and tracing the outline of those luscious lips.

I was practically melting in my desire for this man, and very close to drooling all over him. And how very embarrassing that would have been, but I never even got the chance; Harry's head slipped forward and connected his mouth to mine once again. Pleasure tingled little paths along my entire body, causing gooseflesh to ripple my arms.

Tired of waiting, I reached down to undo his breeches, trailing my fingers lightly down his gorgeous stomach. I met no resistance as my hands gracefully undid the buckles and chords. He rubbed against me enthusiastically, wanting the sweet release just as much as I did.

When the last knot was untied and the last clasp unfastened, I shifted to lie on top of Harry, severing our kiss. His pants were off in a flash, soon followed by my own. They lie in a lonely heap next to our bench, pooled helplessly on the floor.

Still boxer-clad, I mounted Harry, pinning his arms above his head. My teeth found his neck and I began to bite once again, all the while rubbing my length along his own. Harry's eyes rolled back in unmistakable pleasure, his moans becoming consistent and growing in intensity. The sweet sliding of our members was drawing us very close to oblivion.

Releasing his hands, I began kissing my way down his hard-as-granite chest, nibbling every now and again. I stopped briefly at his gold-tinged pectorals, kissing sweetly around their circumference and sucking the cinnamon nub gingerly in my mouth. My hand snaked up to cup the other one, gently pinching his nipple between my forefinger and thumb, causing him to exhale a puff of air in ecstasy.

Harry's body arched wildly beneath me, throbbing with pleasure, raspy moans quietly escaping his throat every now and then. My head sailed down quickly, nails scratching a gentle path across his abs as my hot mouth caressed his tense figure. Teeth grazed his hipbone harshly, causing a spine-tingling sensation to race through his limbs, traveling to his very core.

My fingers lightly skimmed the midnight blue tresses of his boxers, loving the raw feeling that the cotton had against my silky skin. They tugged suggestively at the elastic holding the cloth just below his hips, slipping in slightly to stroke at the smooth body beneath. His erection was pressing itself longingly against my neck, begging for attention, trying to find the friction that would bring it sweet release.

I now became very aware of my own arousal, aching and cramping with desire, residing restlessly beneath the purple stitches of my boxers. I knew that I couldn't wait much longer before I was going to lose it completely; my mind was already starting to fog up and slip into oblivion.

Picking up the pace, I hastily fumbled with the tiny button containing his bulge, my fingers tripping over themselves in excitement. The plastic slid free with an inaudible _pop_ and my hands were fast on its trail, digging the throbbing excitement from its burning confines.

Without thinking twice, my lips were upon the swollen head, kissing seductively as my tongue ran circles around it. Harry let out a great breath that he had apparently been holding, sounding more like a moan than anything else. Incoherent mutterings were escaping his aching lips, emerald eyes fixated on the top of my silver-white hair as I continued to tease him with pleasure. My hands placed themselves securely on Harry's hips, painfully restraining him as he fought to shove himself down my throat.

Slowly, my mouth began to slide down his shaft, causing him to tense with anticipation and grab at my hair with need. He fought to push me down faster, but I maintained my leisurely pace, now drawing him out. My tongue probed him, running lines and circles along the over-sensitive flesh. Teeth grazed him ever so slightly, combining pain with pleasure for the ultimate sensation.

Wild moans were escaping his throat, his nails forcefully digging into my back, body twitching with bliss. I let my hands slide down from him hips, moving to caress the sensitive skin on the inside of his legs. Fingers slipped to cup his manhood, squeezing slightly, traveling up to grasp the part of his shaft that wasn't all the way down my throat.

My thumbs stroked small circles into his skin, withdrawing him from my mouth completely. He shivered at the loss of heat, gooseflesh rampaging his too sensitive body. My lips kissed the base of his arousal, hand pumping him slowly. I ran a line up his length with my tongue; looking up at him with mercury eyes from behind my blonde lashes.

His facade was contorted with pleasure like none he's ever known. His luscious lips parted in a silent moan of pleasure, ripe and rouge from contact with his teeth, slightly bruised. Jet-black hair was plastered to his forehead with sweat, giving me the impression of a wet little puppy. Emerald eyes hid from the world, unable to open from the unbearable pressure building through out his body.

Letting my hand slide up and down his slick excitement, I kissed around its circumference, gathering small amounts of skin in my lips and leaving little hickeys. I could feel Harry quiver in my grasp and knew that he would come for me soon. My mouth returned to the head, showering it in little kisses, before I sucked him down into my depths.

He was so delectably hard now, so much that it burned to shove him down my throat, but I did it anyways. I needed to do it, needed to fill my mouth with every inch of Harry as I could. I needed to taste him, savor him like I never have before. The musky flavor of him was overwhelming my taste buds, sending them into frenzy, making them rub up and down his length with relentless vigor.

Harry's fists tightened in my silvery hair, making me moan with pleasure. I looked up at him and saw the fire in his emerald eyes. I knew what was coming; I could feel him trembling restlessly in my mouth. His lips parted as if to scream the agony of all the feelings that were surmounting at that very moment, but no sound came out. He was staring with those feral eyes, gaping at the top of my head.

Momentarily, I ceased my ministrations, savoring the feeling of his twitching in my mouth, how he filled me so perfectly. Looking up once again, I saw his gaze had become sad, scared almost; it pleaded with me to finish him off. Something about the way he looked at me then drove me crazy with passion, it ignited a flame somewhere deep within my body, an ardor that made me long to taste him finish.

With the thought of that sweet fluid flowing down my throat, I continued working him in and out of my mouth, savoring the smooth feel that he had against my lips. He had returned to that state of silent screaming, his hands practically ripping my hair out in anticipation. I liked it though, liked the feeling of his slender, albeit muscular, fingers twining themselves violently in my scalp. I loved the way they brushed against my head, sending pinpricks of electricity throughout my body, ravishing my senses. Every touch he graced me with drove me absolutely crazy.

Abruptly, Harry let go of my hair, leaning back, supporting his weight with his hands. He was thrusting wildly into my throat, almost sobbing in need of release, body shaking with anticipation. I could feel him growing in size, filling my mouth more completely than before, and making it almost uncomfortable to breathe. Pushing all thoughts of choking away, I slid a free hand slithering up his stomach. I caressed my way up his contracting abs, up to his tense pectorals, pinching his nipple between my thumb and forefinger. A soft release of air escaping from his lungs was the only reaction he could spare, for he was so very, very close to the edge.

I could almost feel the waves of pleasure rippling about our bodies, sending the hairs on the back of my neck rigid with sensation. The climax was growing, blooming up within Harry's body, an all-consuming hunger that was demanding to be fed. I knew that now was not the time for niceties, what he needed was to finish fast, hard, and strong. With that thought in mind, I slipped him out of the depths of my throat, letting him fill me less painfully. I set an excruciating pace, wrapping my fingers about him in a ring, working up and down, into my mouth and out. My tongue pierced the steady pumping with lush movements, laving at the most sensitive of spots. The head of him brushed the roof of my mouth, eliciting a moan on his part.

"Oh, yes. Yes, do that again," he panted. Me, being more than happy to oblige, continued to let his wild thrusts end by grazing the roof of my mouth. He shivered and forced himself into my mouth at a faster, almost unbelievable pace.

Not but a few seconds later, orgasm struck Harry like a storm of lightning, all white-hot electricity pulsing across the sun-kissed tan of his body, rolling him of all thought. The pleasure of his release swirled around me like wildfire, a squall of the utmost heat that sent my hormones dancing, my arousal skyrocketing. Pain flared in my throat where his fluids where traveling down, the musky taste of him bringing both excitement and more need. I sucked him dry, needing to feel that seed in my mouth, savoring it, not necessarily because it tasted good, but because it was him. In the purest form possible, he was running down my throat, the very life of him, and that made it taste so good. It was like taking a part of him, or millions of tiny parts of him, to keep forever.

Harry's body sunk back into the metal bleachers, rigid, numb with the aftermath of the violent climax that had just rampaged his body. I let him slide from my mouth, still hard in all his glory, to rest my head dazedly on his golden thigh. Even in my endorphin-filled state, I still had to admit that I was slightly tired, my mouth protesting in pain as I rested my jaw against his silky flesh.

Nuzzling in against his body, I flicked my gaze up to his eyes, my vision slightly blurred around the edges, cloudy with lust. Surprisingly, Harry's eyes remind me very much of my own, still filled with an unquenchable thirst, as if he didn't feel in the least bit staked. Those deep emerald eyes were flaked with bright specks of chartreuse, the eyes of desire, liquid and smooth, like a Caribbean sea on the calmest of days. But I knew that if you looked past the calm, liquid of the grass green you would see a storm brewing in those subterranean olive pits.

Regaining their feeling, his well-muscled hands made their way to my face, cupping it lovingly and pulling it up to his lips. The kiss was chaste, a very silent, yet unbelievably profound thank you, but I wanted nothing to do with thank yous. I deepened the kiss, using his hair as leverage, melding our mouths together and savoring the feeling. My tongue pierced the shield of his lips, gaining entry and exploring with renewed vigor.

The air about us was soaked in the muggy aroma of passion, making it hard for me to breathe let alone think. Our lips parted, and all I knew was that I needed to feel this man inside of me, and that I needed him now. Speaking for the first time during our encounter, I released his silky flesh from my lips and panted quietly in his ear.

"Harry… I need you… _now!_" I was very surprised at how fast he reacted. Rolling from underneath me, he took a place behind my body, violently grinding his erection against my arse. Using one of his golden hands, he pressed down against my back, making my butt stick out a little more and making me moan inwardly at the dominance.

Shaky hands quickly removed our boxers, and his length was soon brushing its way against my inner thighs. I was throbbing with arousal, dripping with excitement and couldn't help but cry out passionately when Harry's strong hand closed firmly around my cock. I thrust hungrily into his grasp, gripping the bench tightly with white knuckles.

I thought I was going to come, then and there, spill my seed all over his hands, but just as I was reaching my peak, he ceased. His fingers slid up my back, across my scalp and eventually into my mouth. I sucked seductively, showing each digit its own good time. I knew what was coming, why his luscious fingers had found their way to my lips, and it would not be my first time.

When I was satisfied that his fingers were well lubed, I released them gingerly from my mouth. Harry's lofty voice blew gently in my ear.

"Are you sure about this?" It teased. I moaned, waiting eagerly for the pain of entrance.

"Y-yes. Please just hurry…" Unconsciously, I was sticking my ass further in the air, begging him for sex.

I almost passed out in ecstasy when the entry finally did come, one wet finger after the other. He moved his digits around slowly at first, trying to minimize the pain and find my sweet spot deep within. Little did he know that I thrived on the pain just as much as the pleasure, which is what made gay sex so utterly enticing.

Thrusting my body backwards, I forced his fingers deeper into me. There were three now. Three supple, saliva covered, strong- as-iron fingers probing expertly inside my body. As he continued to swirl and drive at random, I found myself writhing in pleasure under his touch, mewling quietly in the back of my throat.

My erection was throbbing almost painfully, begging for some attention, but I could do nothing about it. My mind was reeling in hurt and pleasure; thinking was no longer an option. All I could do was thrash about in bliss under the professional ministrations of this sex god, helplessly stranded.

Harry's lips came upon my shoulder, kissing with fervor as he continued to prepare me for what was coming. His agile tongue traced little circles along my milky flesh, nibbling here and there and causing me to buck slightly at the welcome presence of more hurt. My heady lids covered steel-gray eyes in an act of lust, so overcome with passion that I could barely function.

"Oh, Harry…" The gravely tone of my intoxicated voice sounded so unlike my own, "Please… take me, Harry… I need you inside…" My throat was dry and I could barely choke out the sentence, fighting a wild war with my swollen tongue as I tried to form words.

I looked over my shoulder at him, eyes feral with ecstasy, silver hair blowing fiercely in the invigorating summer wind. When our gazes met, I knew what was about to come. Lust-soaked emerald eyes bore mischievously into fire-rimmed charcoal ones, allowing more communication than words possibly could.

He withdrew from me, sweetly and slowly, keeping that intense eye contact, watching me writhe helplessly beneath him. My eyes fluttered about in their sockets, showing all whites and no iris. There was the momentary feeling of loss when his fingers were finally out, but soon I was full in an entirely different way. His hand reached down between us, lightly brushing against my butt, wrapping around himself as he guided the way into me.

It was slow at first, he had to work a bit to get the head of him in, but once the penetration had begun, he was gentle no more. Harry had been very attentive throughout this whole encounter; he knew just how I wanted it. Steadying himself, he placed his big hands on my hips, caressing the flesh with heavy strokes of his thumbs. He paused momentarily, placing a chaste kiss on my shoulder before shoving his way into my body, hard and fast.

I could feel myself fighting him for every inch, trying desperately to keep him out, making pain flare up and down the lower half of my body, but I embraced it. A strangled moan escaped my lips, torn between ache and ecstasy, not quite sure how it should react, but my body knew what it wanted. My hips shoved their way back against his member, savoring everything; the ribbed sensation of him inside, the pain of expansion, the pleasure as he rubbed that spot within, everything.

Harry had stopped moving. The feeling of me, so tight, so wet, so warm, closing in around him was incredibly overwhelming. Sex with a woman could never be so incredibly wonderful, so incredibly fulfilling, so incredibly… right. Our bodies fit together like pieces of a lost puzzle, the shallow dip of his lower abdomen perfectly cradling the swell of my ass, big hands flawlessly cupping the whole of my tiny hips. We were both struck still by the normality of it all, how we seemed to be created to fit together so entirely.

I soon grew restless though, and knew that if he didn't start moving soon, I would go crazy. Grinding my body back against him, I subtly reminded him of my presence. His fingers flexed against the flesh of my hips and slowly he began to withdraw himself.

When he was almost out and I thought that I could bear no more teasing, he shoved himself all the way in, brushing against every desired spot, making me thrash all over the place. My body was heady with desire, eagerly welcoming every bit of pain, every bit of pleasure. As he vigorously stroked in and out of me, Harry's teeth found their way to my shoulder, biting furiously, drawing blood as he fought to stake his growing hunger. The pain blossomed even more sensations within me, igniting a flame deep inside my body.

I grew hot, almost feverish to the touch, as the inferno raging inside threatened to consume me, furrowing up with every stroke, every caress deep within. My vision blurred considerably, so much that I felt my burning charcoal eyes begin to glaze over. Our pace was fast, painful, hard, but so incredibly wonderful as it raged to fulfill our every desire.

All that could be heard was the smack of skin against skin, a wondrous melody that no kind of orchestra could ever dream to surmount. It filled my ears, clogging them, making everything else sound fuzzy and muted, driving me crazy as I fought to keep up the insanely fast tempo. It was a cadence of passion, a rhythmical caress of flesh, so alluring to the mind that it slowly drew me closer, further towards the edge of oblivion.

My arms had given up supporting me a long while ago, they lay limply beside me now as I readily allowed my body to be pounded into the metallic stands. Harry was being relentless now, teetering so close to the edge that he could barely think. The only thing that he knew was our tempo, it kept him alive, and it was our pulse, the only thing that still connected us to this world.

I felt Harry's chest expand behind me and knew that he was holding his breath, not daring to breathe this close to the end. My awareness of him had increased tenfold and I was suddenly aware of every single move that he made. His caresses inside me sent my over-sensitive body into shock, his nails digging into my sides caused blossoms of pleasure to well up beneath their touch, his body leaning over mine struck me to the very core, he made every single nerve end hot with electricity.

Knowing that I owed my increased state of awareness to the oncoming climax, I stopped all thoughts going through my head, concentrating only on the sliding of our flesh, his warm breath pounding out against my neck, the driving thrusts that were sending me further into the ground.

Sunbursts of color were exploding from behind my eyes, some kind of pleasure-ridden fireworks show that left my vision blind as night. The inferno deep within the confines of my body was beginning to seep out, swelling inside like a great tempest, sending me ablaze in a million pinpricks of ecstasy. My pale pink lips parted in a moan that was nothing but guttural, the sound of an animal in heat. Harry was above me, grunting out a cadence of his own pleasure, pounding me so hard and so fast that I was becoming numb to anything but the feel of him inside me.

The fire became all-consuming, filling my entire body, sending a nuclear explosion off behind my eyes, depriving me all thought. My body exploded, or at least that's what it felt like to me, like my skin had been seared off by the radiation of impact, my nerve ends all exposed and burning with a concoction that was pure nitroglycerin. But I liked pain. The chemicals on my skin brought me screaming and writhing all the way off the edge, glowing in all my glory, body overwhelmed by the emblematic inferno that was my orgasm. I came untouched, like I never have before.

Harry pounded naught but two more times into my body before burring himself as deep as possible, spilling his seed as he was pushed into that blissful void. He came over me in a thrusting mess of moans and groans, ripping harshly at the flesh of my hips, his teeth once again finding their way to my shoulder. It was a wonderful feeling, his hot mouth on my even hotter skin, dominating me like an animal as he held me in place. Even though I was finished, I still screamed for him, the sound ripping through my lips in an act of full ecstasy.

Unable to sustain his weight any longer, Harry collapsed on top of me, a sweaty heap of flesh and bodily fluids. His bulk brought me all the way down, metal digging in at every point, but I didn't care, I was much to content for any complaints. The coolness of the stands was much welcomed in fact, feeling like frostbite against the wildfire of my body, helping subside the fever that was rampaging it's last along my flesh.

We lie there for what seemed an eternity, just enjoying the way our skin melded together everywhere we touched. The curve of my spine fit perfectly in against the curve of his stomach, his nipples slightly brushing my shoulders, hips jutting against the small of my back, his now limp member resting idly between my legs. There was no need for words to express the way we felt at that moment; our previous actions said it all, we had thoroughly enjoyed it.

Shifting, I turned over, using my hands to keep the full bulk of Harry off me, then letting him collapse back down onto me once I was done. He kissed me tenderly on the jaw, a slight brush of his softer than soft lips against the paleness of my flesh. Returning the gesture, I buried myself in his ebony hair, inhaling his sweet, intoxicating scent. The striking flavors of cinnamon and coconut filled my nostrils, eliciting a sigh on my part.

I was so incredibly comfortable here in Harry's arms, never ever wanting to move again. My milk white fingers caressed their way across his cheek as I fought to shape the words that would tell him how I felt. My pale pink lips parted, the selected words forming on my tongue, but I was cut off by a voice much sweeter than my own.

"Draco… I love this," Harry admitted, shifting so that his chin was digging into my chest, exposing the caverns that were his emerald eyes. "And… well… I think I love you, too…" He looked up bashfully at the stony depths of my mercury orbs, "I think I've always loved you." He looked quite embarrassed to say this out loud, but I admired his courage, and I knew that I returned all the feelings that he harbored, so I decided to tell him that.

Choosing the words very carefully, as to prevent any misunderstandings, I ran my fingers over Harry's lips.

"I know exactly how you feel," I started, capturing him with my loving gaze, "I know how you feel, because it's exactly how I feel, minus the "I think" part, because I _know_ that I love you." The most genuine smile erupted across his face, the smile that melts my insides, sends shivers up my spine. My face mirrored his own as I looked down at him, so incredibly ecstatic that we were finally able to tell each other how we felt.

I nuzzled in against the softness of his hair, kissing him lightly, expressing my love for him. I held him tight, so tight, never wanting to let go for fear that he would disappear and I would wake to find that this had all be a very wonderful dream. Even if it had been a dream, at least it was a good one. I'd never been granted with such a nice dream before, I would consider myself blessed.

Serenity doesn't last forever, and I knew that, so when it was disturbed, I wasn't quite as scared as I should be. The silence was broken by the sound of metallic footsteps and muffled screams, both of which were coming from my right. This sound was repeated quite a few times, also on my left, and I soon realized that we must have a crowd by now. I was entirely too happy to care much, but still, I turned my head to face them. Harry mirrored my actions, clinging to me helplessly, needless to say that he was terrified. My gaze was met by a group of ten completely dumbfounded, slightly scared, Gryffindors and Slytherins.

My eyes fell on the gold and maroon clad ones first, noting their variety of emotions. Hermione was near tears, which was understandable seeing as she _was_ Harry's girlfriend, Ginny was hurriedly looking away, embarrassment playing out in her blue eyes, and Ron looked as though he would be sick at any given second, the green of his face bringing out the ginger of his hair. My utmost sympathy went out to Hermione, but the others I really didn't give two shits about.

A whimper of fright from Harry made me turn my attention to the group of snakes standing next to the lions. They were pretty pissed looking, if I do say so myself, or at least Blaise and Pansy were. Both had the look of utmost disgust on their faces, hatred burning in their chocolate eyes as the stared down at the mess of our tangled bodies. Repulsion turned to bewilderment when I flicked over to Crabbe and Goyle, who had no idea in hell what was going on. Their monstrous faces were contorted in a sick looking question mark, idly trying not to stare.

My eyes flicked next to Harry's, which were messes of emerald emotion, all liquid and confused about what to do. I stroked his cheek lovingly, reassuring him without words that everything would be okay, and I totally believed that they would. It was like I was thinking earlier, that nothing risked is nothing gained. It was time to put my thoughts to the test. It was time to live my life in permanent ink.


End file.
